


Of Everything Known and Unknown

by Delysia



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, F/M, Natasha Needs a Hug, Past Brainwashing, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Red Room, Romance, Steve Rogers Feels, Team Dynamics, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delysia/pseuds/Delysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To be a hero means you step across the line and are willing to make a sacrifice..." </p><p>She leaves him standing in a graveyard clutching a thread of a file that she warns him to be careful with. The mistake isn't taking the file. The mistake is letting her leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So my first Avengers fic! Very, very nervous because there are so many talented writers that are a heck of a lot better at this than I am. 
> 
> Edited: After seeing Civil War (so good but no spoilers here so no worries) this will not be canon compliant past the end of CA: WS. While I adore what the Russo Bros did I just am not willing to try to shoe horn this in to fitting with Age of Ultron and I have my own thoughts on James "Bucky" Barnes and do not want to deviate from them yet. 
> 
> This is a prologue that jumps in mid story. I promise all details will be filled in with much longer chapters. I would adore any and all feedback. Enjoy!

_“There are worse ways to go…”_

 

It happened in a blink of an eye. Her face relaxed for a moment, her brow no longer furled, her hands rebounding into something more natural than the elongated way she had held them since they found her. He didn't dare to breathe because he was so absurdly grateful in that moment that she was _her_ that he was scared to risk even moving and shattering the illusion.  
  
“Steve?”  
  
And that did it. Not Rogers or Cap but _Steve_.  Her green eyes locked on to his before darting about the space, fearfully scanning the area and he couldn’t help but wish Barton would put down his bow and that Stark would take off the suit and let her breathe. She was Nat. “Hey, it’s ok. We’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He reminded her again.  
  
“Safe,” she repeated.

Steve let a whoosh of a held breath pass through his lips, exhaling some of the fear that had been compounding in his stomach since that arrow came through his window. She was safe. It hadn’t been too late. This wasn’t going to be like the battle over the Potomac. No matter what lies he had been self medicating with deep down his heart knew couldn’t take losing her as well. The corners of his lips began to draw up. _It was going to be okay_ and yet before he could even smile at her all hell broke lose.

It all happened so fast, too fast and too surreal for his mind to fully comprehend what he was seeing. Natasha was there one moment and gone the next, a unseen wave jolting through her and her eyes turning hollow and deadly.   
  
“Shit.” Clint reacted before Steve could even fully digest that she was gone again. The temporary relief and the sudden loss battling in his brain, crashing against each other and refusing to fit into any kind of sense. Her elbow jutted out sharply, catching Clint off guard and snapping his head back with a sickening wet crunch to his nose. It was mere seconds until he recovered but it was enough for her to have position herself away from the barre, giving her more space to maneuver.  Clint’s arm drew back instinctively, the arrow still notched and aimed at Natasha, blood pouring from his nose and over his lips.  

“Don’t!” Steve wasn’t sure if the word actually made a sound or if it died in his throat. It was so loud in his head, so wrong.   
  
Natasha grabbed madly for the arrow that Clint held still resting against the bowstring, aimed at her. She was  a wild animal scrambling teeth and claws with no trace of the grace Steve had known her to exhibit in every mission, every training session, every movement. Clint levered his weight back hard, his nose spattering blood as he yanked the arrow away breaking any tentative grip she had. His bow clamoured to the floor as Steve threw himself between the two of them, bracing for an assault from either side.   
  
“Nat, no!” The cry was not his own and Steve turned and saw the anguish on Clint’s face, like someone had managed to shatter his world. He could relate. _Not again. Not again! Not like with Bucky..._   
  
Steve was the closest to her and he reflexively prepared for her assault, knees bending ever so slightly, weight placed on the balls of his feet, but the attack never came. Instead, she turned and ran. He followed, closing the space quickly, mentally calculating how many steps to the door and how with the least amount of force he could intercept her but she veered sharply to the left, catching him off guard. He could only watch helplessly as she dove head first through the pane glass window, wood splintering and glass shattering as she plummeted out of the seven story window with nothing but the pavement below to break her fall.   
**  
**


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that.”

_Eight weeks earlier..._

  
“Captain Rogers, we have already heard testimony that during the hostage crisis on the Lemurian Star Miss Romanoff placed several agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. at risk including yourself by going rogue. Could you elaborate on these events for us?”  
  
Steve set his jaw, struggling to remember all the lessons his mother had drilled into him about being polite, trying to focus on the fact that he was in the Capitol building on camera in front of the entire nation and he owed it to _her_ \-  no, to all of them, to get this right.  It didn’t mean that he still didn’t want to knock that self satisfied smirk off of Senator Kleen’s smug face. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed down the foul word that Clint always used for people strikingly similar to the self righteous man sitting at the Senate committee across from him.    
  
“Agent Romanoff, “ Steve corrected, “was following orders given to her by Director Fury. She was-”  
  
“Wait. I’m so sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers.” Senator Kleen looked anything but apologetic, seeming to relish the way the cameras swiveled in his direction, taking a pause to make sure he had the attention of everyone in the room before continuing. “Miss Romanoff is no longer an ‘agent’. In fact, there are many here that believe she was never actually loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. but a traitor working for HYDRA to help corrupt one of our most powerful agencies.”  
  
“No charges have been filed, “ offered a meek bespectacled junior senator with a tremble in his voice.  
  
_‘At least someone is sticking to the facts and not grandstanding’,_ Steve thought grimly. The whole thing was a three ring circus. Was this what his country had become? This was how they handled things now? Roasting on a spit those who stuck out their necks to save its own citizens and countless others? They didn’t deserve to have Natasha watching their backs if this was how they intended to repay her service.  
  
She had been called in first, the sacrificial lamb being lead to the slaughter, an exchange for exposing so many of their sins to the world. Her testimony took just over two weeks and Steve had kept up with the procedures by watching her on the ceiling mounted hospital TV with Sam almost always nearby. “This is bad,” Steve had remarked from the hospital bed that Maria had practically forced him to stay in with a warning that he was safer and a better poster boy for the evil HYDRA had wrought by staying in his room at Walter Reed.

“Actually I expect a worse- a lot worse,” Sam had replied with relief clear in his voice. “Girl can hold her own.”

And she could and did. Steve watched tensely as they started to trot out some of her past misdeeds but she handled it with an eerie level of calm and Steve could almost see the smirk that she wasn’t allowing to be on display as the committee fumbled badly, mixing up dates and names. Way too hasty to bring her under the microscope, without waiting to build their case. They were scrambling to lay the sins of S.H.I.E.L.D. at anyone else’s feet but their own. Any patched together game plan they had was sloppy and Natasha easily maneuvered through their holes.  "You need us. Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes we help make it that way, but we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me.”  
  
It was one hell of a parting shot and Steve naively thought was the end of it. They had a few people within S.H.I.E.L.D. that they were questioning but he assumed that was that- annoying but a small price to pay to have the truth out there. Except it wasn’t.  While he and Sam headed off in search of Bucky, congressional hearings had been called with as many former high level agents as Congress could round up before they started to call them in. Sam, Maria, then Tony, who made the whole thing as long drawn out and sensational as he could. Treating the hearing as more of a press conference to air his personal grievances with everything from the temperature of the room ( _“I get that most of you are going to hell, but is that any reason to make the rest of us have to acclimate to that temperature?”_ ) to the pothole in front of the now renamed Avenger’s tower (“ _Thank God I have a flying suit to get around it. I think the Chitauri clean up committee needs to do another sweep on my block”_ ).  
  
There had been a calls for both Bruce and Clint but Rogers wasn’t sure if they had been able to actually locate either of them to serve the papers. His own supona was an unpleasant surprise served right after a long nine hour flight and another failed attempt to bring Bucky home. By the time Steve had received his summons, it was clear that Congress was more than happy to pin this on Natasha and any other foreign influences they could. Public tide had turned as more and more of her sensational history trickled into the mainstream media. The hospital fire in particular had been fodder for the 24 hour news cycle; headlines splashed across magazines at the store  questioning everything about her from her loyalty to her lineage (an heir to the lost grand duchess?). Steve rationalized it made sense that she had disappeared after everything. He would have too.  
  
It made total sense but it didn’t mean he didn’t miss her. Didn’t mean he hadn’t sought out some sign of her on his journeys; his eyes always searching for a flash of red hair and a knowing smile, his ears almost aching to hear that raspy deadpan. It had been two months since he had said goodbye to her, her lips warm pressed against his cheek and the air cool where she should have been in his arms. It hurt to think of her too much. It all felt like he had somehow missed a chance. Heck maybe it was never even there, maybe it was only in his head and she never even felt it but he couldn’t swallow down the feeling that his life was just a list of missed dances.  
  
And now he was being needled by these self promoting idiots about the very woman he was trying his damnedest to stop thinking about. It didn’t exactly leave him as calm as he knew he needed to come across. “Charges for what? For saving million of lives helping to take down HYDRA and Project Insight? Last time I checked this country gave medals for bravery, not security hearings.”

“You can’t honestly think that Miss Romanoff, codenamed: Black Widow, should not be held accountable for her crimes including the death of Secretary Alexander Pierce?” Kleen scoffed.  
  
With Fury having been buried two days before Insight’s attempted launch, the blame for Pierce’s death had fallen on Natasha’s shoulders. A fact that she had not seemed particularly burdened with on the one and only occasion she stopped by to visit Steve at Walter Reed.  
  
  
( _“They are saying you are a murderer.”_  
  
_“I’ve been called worse.”_  
  
_Steve was baffled by her nonchalance. “You didn’t kill him. Don’t you even care that you are getting blamed for something you didn’t even do?”_  
_  
“This time.”_

 _“This time? What is that supposed to mean?” Steve was irrationally irritated with her for being so okay with everything, something clawing deep inside him, wanting her to stand and fight this injustice._  
_  
Natasha leaned back in the utilitarian hospital chair. Her posture was relaxed but Steve could feel her gaze washing over him in that way that only she could do; taking his measure in an instant, weighing every twitch and tense muscle and using it for… what? He didn’t know. When she spoke her voice was soft but the words slightly clipped, carefully chosen. “It means this time I was blamed for a murder I didn’t do but what about all the ones I did do?”_

 _Her eyes bore into his, burning with an intensity that made his stomach flip. Whatever response she had wanted, had expected, she clearly wasn’t getting it. “Am I supposed to be upset they are calling me what I am?,” she pressed on, “because I’m not. So I didn’t killed Pierce. I would have if I had gotten clear shot and what’s more is I would have made sure it hurt.”_  
_  
There was something about her eagerness to take blame, to admit the worst of herself that caused a wave of nausea roll over Steve as he dropped her stare to focus instead on the starch white hospital blanket spread across his lap. “I would have too,” he tried to counter, eyes finding hers again. “I would have taken him out if I had the chance. He was… What he was trying to do…”_

 _Steve swallowed hard, a sour taste in his mouth. She had leaned forward as he spoke, her head tilted curiously to the side. “I would have,” he repeated, firm._  
  
_She smiled softly at him, indulgently, as if he were a small child she had to humor. “If you had to maybe, if he wouldn’t surrender, if you couldn’t restrain him, maybe but considering how you landed yourself here I’m not sure I believe you.”_  
_  
There was a harsh humor in her words that he bristled at.  So he couldn’t kill Bucky, so what? That was different. That was Bucky- to the end of the line, always.  It didn’t make him a saint.  “And you would have what? Shot him in the back?”_

_“Without a second thought,” she admitted and then agitatedly added as she stood, “I know you requested my file from Fury after Zodiac. You’ve read it. You know what I am capable of. I don’t know why you keep pretending you don’t.”_

  _“You are not just some cold blooded killer!”_

_He hadn’t meant to yell at her, he really hadn’t. Her face went slack, momentarily stunned . “Nat, I’m sorry I-”_

_She put up a hand to silence him, her face suddenly close to his, her eyes darting back and forth between his eyes, evaluating him rapidly. “You really believe that, don’t you?”_

  _“Yes.”_

  _The word hung in the air. Natasha nodded lightly, red hair bobbing. Something shifting in her that made Steve wish he could swallow it back despite it being utterly true.  Then she leaned closer, the scent of her filling his senses as her lips pressed to his forehead in a quick kiss. “Now I know you are in the wrong business, Rogers.”_

 _"Nat?”_  
  
_But it was too late. She was already backing away. “I’ll tell Wilson he can have his guard dog spot back.”_  
  
_Steve wanted to tell her to stay, not to go, but Natasha was never one to be swayed from her chosen path so he sat silently willing her to stay with ever fiber of his being._  
  
_“Try not to die on me again, Cap.”_  
_  
Steve picked up her thread and volleyed her quip back. “Can’t make any promises. Try not to hurt any senators when you go back tomorrow.”_

_Her smile hurt to look at. “Can’t make any promises.” )_

  
She might not have cared about being the fall guy for Pierce’s death but it didn’t mean Rogers had any intention of making the man out to be any better than the monster he was. “No. I’m saying you should throw her a parade for taking care of that piece of scum that this committee allowed to grow right under it’s nose.”  
  
“Captain Rogers! Are you suggesting that Miss Romanoff acting on her own with no oversight to kill a U.S. citizen is something to be applauded?” Fake shock and concerned dripped from the Senator’s voice. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I’m saying that _Agent_ Romanoff’s actions spared million of innocent lives and it would be good if everyone tried to remember that. Are we done here?”  
  
“I think we could recess until-” the man with glasses began.  
  
“Not so fast,” Kleen interrupted. “Captain Rogers, just one more question and then I would say we can pick this back up on Monday.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“How would you define your relationship with Miss Romanoff?”  
  
That was the ten million dollar question, as Sam would say. How did Steve define his relationship with Natasha? Simple- he didn’t.  
  
There was no point in trying to. It was as enigmatic as she was. There was the Nat that was his partner, fearless in battle, dazzling with her deadly graceful movements and then there was the Nat whose breath right after the fighting had ceased came in shallow gasps, a reminder that she was all too human. There was the Natasha whose upturned lip laughed to herself at her own pun laden quips and refused to let Steve take himself too seriously. The Natasha that bullied him out of his apartment on nights he couldn’t seem to sleep to aid her in her quest to find the perfect milkshake. ( _“All that Ikea furniture S.H.I.E.L.D. gave you isn’t going anywhere. I promise it will still be there when you come back and you can brood all you want to the bookcase after we check out that place on Georgia Ave.”_ )  Then there was the Tasha that broke his heart, her normally inscrutable face laid open and vulnerable before him ( _“I_ _f it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?_ ”)  
  
Bucky had pulled him to the bank of the Potomac but it had been Natasha’s voice cursing in Russian that he remembered. Her hands insistent and unyielding and her hair dripping on his face. Over a transatlantic flight, Sam disclosed that as soon as Natasha saw him lying on the bank of the river that she dove from the helicopter into the frigid waters to swim the 20 yards to him. ( _“I gave her a 9.2 on the dive. At little sloppy on entry,” Sam offered with a wink,  “but I think she was a little distracted.”_ ) Steve thought it would have been romantic or a sign or something at least if he could remember her pouring her own breath into his body bringing him back to life but sadly it was all a blank until he was sputtering, choking up water, and vomiting into the mud.  Her hands had been on his back then. Soothing while she threatened not only to kill him if he ever scared her like that again but to bring him back to life and repeat the process- slowly and painfully. And Steve had no doubt that if anyone could do it, it would have been Natasha.

“Captain?” Kleen inquired, snapping him back to the present. Suddenly Steve was aware the pause he had taken to contemplate his answer had been a beat too long and even the junior senator was now watching him with a quizzical expression on his face as if he was weighing all of his testimony in a different light. “You seem distracted. I surely hope we aren’t boring you,” Kleen quipped. “I know you are used to a much more action than we typically see.”

It was a bait, an attempt to inflame his temper and Steve refused to bite. He sat silently, dangerously calm, daring Kleen to try and impune his record.  
  
“No comment?” Kleen asked. “Well isn’t this a long way from the Captain America who used to give speeches selling… what was it again? Oh yes! War bonds. I thought you would be comfortable speaking in public by now.” His smile was meant to come off as friendly to the cameras but all Steve could see was the snake underneath the suit.  
  
“I’ll speak when I have something worth saying.”  
  
“So do you mean to imply your relationship with Miss Romanoff is nothing to speak of?”  
  
No, he hadn’t but he also wasn’t going to let this man rifle through his personal life for a headline. “She is my teammate.”

“Teammate? I thought I heard that you and her were partners for over a year? Starting with Mission: Zodiac if my memory is correct…” 

“Yes,” Steve sighed. He didn’t want to talk about Natasha, not here, not in front of these people with their prying pointing fingers. “Director Fury thought we would balance each well.”  
  
“Well since Director Fury is no longer with us and we can’t ask him what his thought process was I guess we will have to take your word for it.” Kleen smirked at the camera. “I do have to say I find it odd. Clean cut Captain America with the legendary femme fatale, Black Widow. Did you request to work with her? Not that I think any of us here could blame you. She certainly has her ‘charms’.”

Blood boiled behind Steve’s eyes and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out. “Director Fury assigned us to work together.” The words ground out, glass under the heel of a boot.  
  
“Hey, hey,” the Senator rose his hands in mock surrender. “Far be it from me to question the word of Captain America. I just wanted to be certain you are not attempting to use this hearing to protect your girlfriend.”  
  
“I’m not.”  
  
“Just making sure,” Kleen approached him, leaning down with a secretive smile. “So not romantically involved at all then?” 

The inside of Steve’s cheek bled from where he bit it so hard, the tangy taste of copper coating his tongue. “She is my teammate and as you pointed out we were S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned partners for over a year.”

“Teammates? Partners? Is that all, really? We had Mr. Stark in here before and besides being very disruptive to the whole process he did not seem to leap to her defense. In fact the few times he would actually answer the questions this committee posed, he painted an unflattering portrait of Miss Romanoff. She had apparently lied to infiltrate his company under the alias of Natalie Rushman.”  
  
Steve stared straight ahead, refusing to react. Tony had in fact shared about Natalie Rushman, something not everyone immediately grabbed onto right after the S.H.I.E.L.D. information dump. Of course Tony grandstanding about it meant certain modeling photos from Japan became front page news even in Europe where Steve had been, attempting to locate Bucky. It had been interesting timing, Stark’s testimony doling out that piece of information just as the hospital fire backlash reached a fever pitch. Suddenly covers switched from what a monster she was to into ‘The Secret Life of Russia’s Most Dangerous Spy’. It had been a well played strategy. Still for reasons he couldn’t quite name, Steve resented those photos being public domain.  
  
“How I heard it was that she saved Tony’s life.”

“Sadly, hearsay is inadmissible. So I just want to be clear here? Partners? Teammates? Is that all you relationship is?”

 “No, that’s not all,” Steve replied.  
  
“Well please enlighten us.”

He knew he shouldn’t, knew Hill would be less than pleased with how off script he had already gone but Steve couldn’t help himself. He never could stand to see someone bullied, especially when they didn’t deserve it, especially someone as important to him as Natasha was. “Natasha Romanoff is someone I would trust with my life which is more than I can say for anyone on this committee. For the record, I am happy to come back here Monday to do my duty and help with this investigation but it better be about HYDRA because if you think I am going to sit here for one more minute as listen to you drag her through the mud you clearly underestimate my patience.”

 

* * *

 

 **** _Later that evening…_  
  
  
_“ ‘_ _If you think I am going to sit here for one more minute as listen to you drag her through the mud you clearly underestimate my patience. Are we done here?’ Then a clearly tense Captain America made his way through the Capital, refusing to answer any questions. Wolf, what do you think? Can we still trust Captain America’s judgement?”_  
  
Steve entered the posh space that Stark had set up for him and Sam while he had to testify in DC with a sigh. The television blaring at him. “Please turn that off,” he begged.

“For an old guy, you make for some compelling television,” Sam offered as he clicked off the television. “Pundits have been having a field day. How did Hill take it?”  
  
“Haven’t heard from her yet.” 

“Uh oh,” Sam grinned. “You know what that means? House call.”

“Could you look a little less enthused?” It wasn’t exactly a secret that Wilson had a... something for Maria. Steve wasn’t sure if his literal wingman had attempted to actually ask her out but he did realize that Sam criss crossing Europe with him made face time with Hill a rare commodity.

Sam shrugged. “Not my fault you went off book. Maybe it won’t be too terrible. Perhaps she’s grading on a curve after Tony?”

“It was that bad?” Steve asked as he slumped on the the couch next to his partner.

“Not that bad.” Sam was always kind but a single pointed look from Steve made sure he told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. “Okay, maybe it was in the same general ballpark at least as far as giving people something to talk about but you know you gave it a shot. No one can fault you there.”  
  
Steve let his lead loll back, studying the movement of the ceiling fan with an exasperated breath. “Yeah a shot and now a bunch of people are trying to decide if I’m even worth trusting.”

“I’m not talking about the committee believing you or not. I’m talking about the shot you took to get Natasha back. That’s what that was, wasn’t it?” Sam continued, pointedly ignoring the fact that his partner had suddenly taken on the appearance of gulping goldfish, “Stark tried to piss her off enough to get her to show. Sort of surprised she didn’t come back and leave him with a limb or two in some unnatural positions but clearly girl has some more restraint than I realized. So making her mad didn’t work so you just went a different way. No harm, no foul.”

“All I did was tell the truth. They shouldn’t be blaming this on her. Nothing more is going on.”

“Sure and that why everyone from CNN to Fox and Friends is buzzing.”  
  
“I did not say anything to try to get her to come back. Natasha will come back when she wants to. _If_ she wants to,” Steve clarified, his tongue feeling thick and dry as the word crossed over it.  
  
“Yeah, yeah because you _always_ just leave people to decide when they are ready to come home on their own. That’s why I have racked up so many frequent flyer miles recently.” 

“Bucky is different. He doesn’t know who he is. If there is one thing Natasha knows it's exactly who she is. If she’s staying gone, there is a reason. Maybe she’s happier where she is.” The thought was bittersweet; a knife that sliced in equal parts- hope that she had found a place where she was safe and content and pain that he knew if she had he might never see her again.

“Well I’m not happier with her wherever she is, I can tell you that,” Sam pouted.

“Sick of me already, Wilson?” 

Sam shook his head. “Just sayin’ the view is a whole lot better with her in the room.”

“Not going to argue with you there.”  
  
Sam took in the slight upturn of Steve’s mouth. “Why don’t you just admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“You miss her.”

Steve sighed, standing to pace the floor in front of his partner. Sam just kept circling back to this idea that he and Nat… That they were… That they could be… “I know what you are thinking, Sam, and it’s not like that.”

“What am I thinking?”

“You know what you are thinking.”

“Yeah so,” Wilson shrugged. “You honestly going to stand there and say it never crossed your mind?”  
  
Steve’s fists balled helplessly at his sides. What he wouldn’t give for a gym right about now? Some place to put up all this pent up pain-  because of course it had. “So it crossed my mind.” 

Wilson leaned back at the admission, cat that caught the canary smirk on his lips.

“You can stop that.”

“Me? I didn’t say a word.”

“Yeah right. So you wanted to know if it had ever crossed my mind that Nat and I could be more? Well it did, you happy now?” Steve’s voice was unusually harsh, his frustration seeping into his words, tainting them. And this is why he didn’t like to think of her- it hurt.

“Just thought it was about time you got that off your chest was all.”

“Lot of good it does me.”

Sam frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it doesn’t matter. She left. So clearly whatever I saw there or thought I saw there, it wasn’t that serious.”

“Looked sorta’ serious from where I’ve been sitting.” At Steve’s incredulous look he continued, “I’ve never had a girl get shot trying to protect me and be willing to go toe to toe with some evil government agency the next day or dive into some cold ass river to make sure I was ok.”

“That’s because you’ve never met someone like Natasha.”

“Has anyone?” Sam countered. “Because I’m not sure if the world is ready for more than one of that woman.”

“I’m just saying that stuff she did? She would have done that for anyone on the team. That’s just who she is.”

“And you really believe that? That she is just like that with everyone?”

Yes... and no. Steve utterly believed that when it came down to it, though she might balk at the title, Natasha was a hero. She would put herself in the line of fire without a second thought but there was a something else that kept tickling the back of his mind. A movie reel that wouldn’t just let him turn it off, a moment that kept replaying in his mind’s eye. Her sitting on the bed and those walls, those staunch steadfast walls that she guarded herself, with gone. Her face so open; the pain and confusion so clearly on display… _(“W_ _ould you trust me to do it?”) That_ felt sacred. Something rare and beautiful and for him alone.  
  
A double knock on the door halted any answer from crossing Steve’s lips. “Saved by the bell,” Sam quipped.

“Pretty sure that’s a knock,” Steve called over his shoulder as he went to get it.

“Room service,”  a familiar voice calling through the wood.

Steve swung the door open to reveal a cart of silver covered dishes and one agitated Maria Hill in a white waitstaff uniform.

“Just what I ordered,” Sam smiled, coming to join Steve in welcoming their guest.

“Don’t start with me, Wilson,” Maria warned as Steve pushed the cart into the room, closing the door firmly behind her.    
  
“Yes, ma'am.” Sam raised his eyebrows, sending a pointed look over her head to an anxious Steve. The message in his brown eyes was clear- ‘you are dead meat’.

Steve shifted his weight from one foot to another, brain coming up with things to say to the harried woman in front of him, something to wipe away that glare she sent his way, before disregarding them each in turn.

“Do you have something to say for yourself?” Maria questioned, her tone icy. “I mean is there any reason at all I wasted the last few days prepping you if you were just going to say whatever you felt like? All I asked was for you to keep cool. Don’t let them rattle you but no-”

“They were out for blood,” Sam waded into the fray. “They weren’t going to let up on him until he said something wrong.”

“Wilson? Shut up and eat.” She pointed to the cart she had brought with her with a stern jab of her finger.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam pulled one covered dish from the tray and headed to the polished table, pointedly refusing to look at either of them.

“Maria, I’m sorry-,” Steve began only to be cut short by Sam Wilson’s pleased cry. “Prime rib? You shouldn’t have.”

 “I didn’t,” Maria assured him. “I billed it to Stark.”

 “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Sam intoned before diving in.

 Rogers stood waiting for the beratement to continue, not even daring to think he deserved otherwise. He had broken orders. He was supposed to help quiet the waters, not churn them up into a muddy mess. Maria sighed at him. “You know I expected this type of thing from Stark but I thought I could at least count on you to keep calm.”

“I didn’t mean to cause anymore problems. I really didn’t. I just couldn’t listen to them lie anymore.” He didn’t say he couldn’t stand to watch them tear Natasha to shreds but he had a feeling Maria understood. Hill just seemed to know things without being told.

“Personally, I enjoyed the show.” Three head swiveled to find a blue floating screen inches from the glass balcony door with Tony’s smirking face projecting from it. “Three out of four stars. Room for improvement but not a bad way to pass an afternoon.”

“You’ve been spying on us?” Steve felt the ground lurch under his steady feet. Surely Stark hadn’t been witness to the conversation he and Sam had just been embarking on, had he? For reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he felt a level of uneasiness about Stark having any more information on Natasha then Tony was already privy to. The two of them seeming content to snark at each other anytime Nat and Stark were in the same space, some shared history that Rogers really didn’t understand and then there were those photographs...

“Well considering I did put you guys up at The Watergate it did seem sort of symbolic, a necessity really.” At Steve’s blank expression, the screen shifted, tilting towards Sam and then Maria in-turn. “Seriously? Barton shows him War Games and Thor teaches him about Pop Tarts but no one has filled him in on Nixon? Next year he is taking high school AP history. This cannot continue. It’s okay though. I know a teacher- blonde, rather attractive-”

“Tony!”

“Don’t get your tights in a wad, Cap,” Tony sighed dramatically. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. It’s a system I had Jarvis build in. Say my name three times in a short period, say like three minutes, and it patches you through to me. Think of it like Rumpelstiltskin except instead of spinning straw into gold I spin it into really impressive tech. Or like Beetlejuice without the frightening performance by Michael Keeton.” At Steve’s bewildered expression, Stark tacked on, “don’t worry, buddy, adding it to your Netflix que now.”

“Tony?” Hill chimed in, clearly trying to get the conversation steered back to the topic at hand.

“Yes, my third current favorite employee?”

“Now really isn’t the- third favorite?”

“Pepper, Jarvis, but you are above Happy and considering how we clearly need to revisit the whole company spending account I’d say that’s pretty generous. By the way- how are you liking that steak, Wilson?”

“Best I’ve had in awhile.”

“Well at least someone is getting my money’s worth.”

Maria tried again. “Seriously, Tony, it really isn’t the best moment for this.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You want to rake the Captain over the coals in private. Whatever.” The screen flicked off for all of three seconds before it popped back up. “And for the record (besides the remote into me), that place is eavesdrop proof. Even on the balcony, the sound shifters built into the panelling make it blend into the traffic or birds or whatever it is going on around you. Not that I’m hearing a lot of ‘thank you’s for helping to secure you a place for your big television debut.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve offered sincerely. The engineer had been more than generous to help them out, especially considering Tony was still a little sore that no one clue him in on the whole Hydra was S.H.I.E.L.D until after it was already trending on Twitter. The space was gorgeous and a drastic contrast to the dumps that Steve and Wilson had been calling home while chasing down Bucky. “Really, thank you.”

The sincerity seemed to catch Tony off guard and he did a dismissive wave in response, “Pepper would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t at least let you crash there when I have a place.”

Steve smiled softly to himself. He highly doubted Miss Potts had done much. Tony just was never very comfortable with one on one gratitude. He only seemed to relish thanks when they came from an adoring crowd. “Thank Pepper for me.”

“Will do, Cap. And Hill?”

“Yes?”

“Once you wrap putting Capsicle in the hot seat, please see if you can find out what Happy did with my newest Tom Ford suit.”

“For the last time, Tony, I am not your PA! Find your own suit.”

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I like Happy more than you. How’s fourth feel?” Tony questioned before the screen and his image disappeared with a pop.

Maria took a deep breath and Steve could see the tension in her shoulders, the obvious restraint she had to endure them all.

“Hill, I’m really am sorry about today. I didn’t mean to cause you any more headaches.” It was obvious that working for Tony was enough of one as is but he chose to keep that comment to himself.

“Save it Rogers. Look, I’ve wasted too much time here already. You go back on Monday and I will be in touch before then to try to help come up with a way to spin this. In the meantime, I want you to stay here. Order whatever you want, charge it all to Stark but just stay out of trouble,” Maria ordered.

“Someone is grounded,” Sam quipped.  
  
“Same goes for you, Wilson. In fact, if Rogers stirs a step, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Why me?”

“Well historically S.H.I.E.L.D. has people for this but considering there isn’t a S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore you’re it.”

“Do you have to rush off?” Sam questioned earnestly.  “Come on and sit. You can eat Steve’s steak.”

 “By all means,” Steve offered.

Hill shook her head. She knew what game Wilson was playing and it wasn’t so much that she wasn’t interested as she simply didn’t have the time to consider if she was or wasn’t. “I’m not even going to answer that. I have to go. Last thing we need is it to look like a former S.H.I.E.L.D. exec is telling Captain America what to say. So Rogers, sit and eat and rest up. Wilson?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Keep him out of trouble.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Wilson agreed, rising from the table to move several silver-covered dishes to the table, leaving the cart she bought nearly empty and ready for her to return it. “One of these days, I’m going to get you to stay for more than ten minutes,” he vowed.  
  
“We will see about that,” Hill replied before making her exit with a quick warning look to both men that spoke volumes.

Sam sighed as the door closed behind her, leaning against the strong wood and addressing Steve. “You know I’m not complaining but hanging with you is a little hard on the love life.”

“Sorry, man,” Steve apologized and then to make amends tacked on, “want my steak?”

“You are turning down food?” Wilson asked in disbelief. Steve had a voracious appetite that never seemed fully satiated. “You really must not feel good.”

No, he really wasn’t but Steve wasn’t about to worry Sam more than he already had. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. Think I might check out this fancy balcony Tony was talking about.”

“Ok.” Sam didn’t say he was there if Steve needed him, at this point that went unspoken.

Steve padded to the fridge, opening it to find glass bottles of Coke, a carton of eggs, and a half gallon whole of milk. Stark clearly had the fridge stocked with that all- American theme he was constantly ribbing him about. Steve poured himself a large glass of milk before heading to the balcony and sitting in one of the lounge chairs. From the corner, he could just make out the Kennedy Center in the setting sun. He had wanted to visit it, had always intended to when he had been stationed in D.C. but somehow he just never found the time. And now he was under house arrest. Another missed opportunity- just like _her_.

And like it so often did his mind drifted to thoughts of red hair and the self satisfied quirk of pink lips. Was she happy where she was? Had she seen the broadcast? What would she have made of it? Sam was wrong, Steve hadn’t used the hearing to try to get her home, not consciously at least. Maybe that had been a mistake. His hand griped the glass of milk, the condensation making his hand slippery. It had been months and yet not a word.

God, he prayed she was ok.

She had to be ok. If she wasn’t, she would have gotten a message to them somehow. Steve tried to reassure himself that if anyone could take care of herself it was Nat. Still a brewing fear lingered in his breast. Why hadn’t she given Stark hell about bringing those photos to the forefront? Did she understand that it had been to keep her as someone glamorous instead of something sinister? Did she even care or know about her newly found fame? Of course she would know, Steve told himself, but maybe she was too at peace wherever she was to let it disturb her.  
  
But then there was that other voice, that voice that used to worry that his mother would have to go without food, that played out scenarios of them being evicted. What if, the voice whispered, what if she wasn’t ok?

Without warning his hand stung, wet with milk and blood, the glass shattered. Steve pulled back sharply, letting the fragments fall onto the balcony because it hadn’t been his grip that had caused it to break but a purple tipped arrow that protruded from the lounge chair, a hair’s breadth from his shoulder. Before Steve could react, another whoosh went dangerously past his ear and covered him in a shower of broken glass.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. This chapter was mostly to understand where Steve's head (and heart) is. Foreshadowing through out (because that's how I roll). Little worried about Tony and Maria's characterizations. Would love any insight on those two. Not a lot of Romanogers but I did manage to slip in a brief flashback. More action in the next chapter. 
> 
> I'm rather new to Avengers fanfic and Romanogers (though I love to read everyone's amazing and inspiring work). Please feel free to drop me a line (even a criticism). Thanks so much for reading! ~Delysia


End file.
